Letters from You
by TheDevilYouDon't
Summary: Letters between Edmund and Lucy during school. Caution: Contains incest. Don't read if you do not like it. Edmund/Lucy. Please review. T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**Edmund/Lucy. Letters to one another while they are at separate boarding schools. Warning: Incest. **

Dearest Lucy,

I miss seeing you as often as I like to. It's as though there is a giant hole in my chest that consumes me day after day. It seems I can go nowhere without being reminded of your wonderful laughter—like he tinkling of bells, Tumnus always said.

I see now that he was right. Do you remember the cathedral down the road from our home? Well, every morning, the bells chime at exactly 9:00, though of course you know that. It's like waking up to find that they have gone. That they have not rung. Yet, even though you know that it is far too late to hear them ringing, you keep listening for them, waiting to hear their joyous song.

Though, I have tried to convince myself that these horrible feelings will soon leave me, they have yet to be expelled. I love you, darling Lucy, and I wish to see you again more than anything else.

I am counting down the days until I once again can hold you. Two weeks to go until the Christmas hols. I long for the day to come so badly, it sometimes consumes everything I do or say or think.

I think that Peter is growing worried. Yesterday, as we were taking a walk around the grounds, he starting asking me how I was doing and how I was feeling. Since he has never uttered such questions before I wonder if he begins to suspect something.

Sometimes I wonder if it is just best to tell Susan and Peter, but then I think of what they will say if they _do _find out and the thought is gone in a jiffy. They would tell Mum, you know, and then there would be this whole big ordeal in which no one will win. I can't put you through that, Lu.

All that I have are memories of when we were together in Narnia. I still can recall every single blushing detail of our first kiss and our last night together. These memories seem to have become fond of starring in my dreams as well. My only consolation is that you will be in my arms soon.

And even as I tell you this, I wonder what good it will do. Even Aslan would not make time move any quicker for the sake of us being together. What good is it to tell you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think clearly nor do my school work properly? What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm?

Nothing good can come from this letter other than seeing your handwriting on a letter replying this one. Write with haste, Lucy. I'm not sure how long I can hold out without hearing from you.

I love you, Lucy. Remember that.

Your brother,

Edmund

**This is the first letter. Lucy's reply is coming soon. Set before Christmas and before Prince Caspian. Please review.**

**Credit goes to C.S. Lewis and M. Night Shyamalan's The Village for Edmund's fantastic quote in the end of the next to the last paragraph. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Lucy's letter! Yay! Let me know what you think.**

Darling Edmund,

Though the times are very hard, you must remember that I am there with you. Don't you remember what dear Mr. Tumnus told us when he found out? 'Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.' Why can't we still be the same as we were?  
Edmund, I love you so dearly. My dark night has become a sunny dawn because of you. Your words are my food and your breath is my wine. You are everything to me. When you feel down remember that I love you not just for who you are, but who I become when I am with you.

Our love is my home. A home that my feet may leave, but where my heart shall always dwell. You are nothing short of my everything. What I feel for you is less of Earth and more of a cloudless heaven. The hours I spend with you I look upon as a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain signing to it….You and you alone make me feel that I am alive.

Do you remember those words you whispered in my ear after our first night together? _'Lucy, to be your friend was all I ever wanted; to be your beloved was all I ever dreamed.' _I find those words rushing to my head whenever I feel sad or lonely. I love you, Edmund. My heart is forever at your service.

Write me back soon.

_If you love me in my dreams, let me sleep forever._

Your sister,

Lucy.

**Hope you liked it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter. Yay!**

Dear Lucy,

Your letters have kept me going for nearly half a year. '_Just one week to go' _is constantly repeating itself in my head.

Peter knows, by the way. He nearly beat the sodding pulp out of me, but he knows. Not that I told him, of course. I just…He read the letters, Lucy. Well, at least the last few. Yours to me, at least, and some of the ones I had begun to write but never got around to finishing.

We were taking a walk during our break hour yesterday and he turned to me. I noticed he looked sort of pale. Next thing I know he's whispering, "How could you, Edmund?" 'Course, I think he's gone mental before I ask him what's up. That's when he says, "You and Lucy? Lord, what would Aslan say?"

So, that's when I figure it out and all of the sudden I'm sputtering out explanations, trying to make him understand so that he wouldn't murder me where I stood. And then, all he does is shake his head, look away and keep on walking. I go to catch up with him and ask him what he's going to do.

"I don't know," is all he can say. Though, "Tell Susan, I suppose," is quickly added afterwards.

"I'm really sorry you had to find out this way, Peter." (That's how I apologized.)

"I just wish you'd told us sooner, Ed."

"Well, we were sort of afraid, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Still, I ought to never speak to you again," Peter tells me.

"I know." That's all I could say.

I'm sorry, Lucy. I did try you know. I'm just…really sorry. Sometimes I just wish that none of this had ever happened. That the two of us had just gone on to be _normal._ But, then I remember what happened in the wardrobe last summer. We were never meant to be normal, I don't think. This happened for a reason.

During the many hours I lie awake missing you, I've come to realize that I no longer believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason is the new mindset for me. It's also during these hours that I remember that if none of this had happened, I never would have gotten to hold you the way I long to now, Lucy.

Peter's just stopped by. He told me that if I'm writing to you, which I think he _knew _I was, then I should tell you that you ought to be the one to break the news to Susan. If he finds you have, he'll send a letter along to her in a few days time.

Maybe you should, Lu. After all, she has a right to know just as much as Peter does. I'd rather her have the news broken to her gently by you rather than sharply by Peter. You know how he can get, 'specially when he's upset about something as he is now.

I miss Narnia almost as much as I miss you. I miss it with an ache in my chest and body that leaves me faint and sick. Perhaps it's because Narnia is where we were free to be together, whenever we liked.

By Aslan's mane, if I could get us back there, I would, Peter and Susan with us or not. I wish Aslan would let us go back. Just for a little while. The small brushes of the hand or tender hugs and kisses on the cheeks surely will never be enough to hold us up. Then again, if Aslan knew, he'd never accept it. Perhaps he'd even punish us.

I'm sorry to leave this letter on a sore note, darling Lucy, but Peter has to talk to me. Pray for my well-being, if you get this before he pummels me.

I love you so much, Lucy. I'll hold you soon.

Your brother,

Edmund

…**.And so the plot thickens. 0_e Tell me what you think.**

**Also, I would like to thank my kind reviewers who have kept me writing this story. Thanks to **_**chroniclesofnarniaGoTandSJA, **__**Don-Jam**__**, and **__**VampyKaee23**__**.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry, meant to post this last night, but I forgot. **

**FYI: I _am _bringing this story back. In fact, I plan to finish it within the next two weeks. I have about four chapters lined up. So, be prepared.**

Dear Edmund,

The world ended just three days ago, and we're just fine. Did you feel it when it split in two like a broken heart, when it crumbled to pieces before our eyes? Or did you notice that the ground fell out from beneath our feet and we were left standing? I hope you turned your head down when the sky became that impossible blackness, and let it pass over you.

And, yet, here we are, breathing in and out like we've been doing our whole lives. The world is rebuilding itself again as we slowly begin to notice all of the changes that have taken place in it.

Rebuild.

I've been repeating that word over and over in my head, like, maybe if I say it enough, the words will take hold in my brain and I'll begin to subconsciously listen.

But even in all of this, all of the pain and anguish that comes with that feeling of betrayal we must have given Peter and Susan, I'm still me. Which is a weird thought, really, because I didn't act the same for a little while. In fact, yesterday, when I laughed with Susan for the first time in what felt like ages, I had to stare at myself in the mirror, thinking that I must not be myself anymore.

But I am. 

Of course, that isn't to say that a significant piece of me isn't missing without you near, that I don't feel utterly heartbroken and sick because of everything that's happened.

I'm simply fine.

So that's why I'm sitting here, in my room, letting in deep breaths and letting them out, because that's something I can still do, even with you miles away from me _(I still think of you when our mail is delivered or I hear the quiet sound of stifled laughter or when I look out at the sunset or when I turn to catch your eyes and smile at you and you aren't there)._

I still sometimes forget that you aren't there.

But I'm still just fine for the most part. 

I still miss you every second though, and those silly little things you always do. Now, before you scoff in a crude voice and ask, "What things?" let me explain?

You always do this one thing where you try to say the most ridiculous things in a serious voice. You never can, though, and you always end up laughing halfway through whatever it is that you're trying to say.

And, whenever you do that, I remember just how much I adore your laugh. The way it bubbles up into your words and make them hop around so they sound like those mornings where your mind is awake and ready for the coming day. 

It always makes me want to fall into you. No, it makes me want to melt into you and just bury myself in your heart and stay there forever.

There's also this other thing you do where you lean against things. You lean against them like the world is effortless and just comes naturally to you. When you do, it feels to me like you could very well be holding up everything _(the world, the sky, even me)_ just by leaning. I love your outline when you lean _(in doorways or on walls or against the counter with your elbows up)_ and it makes me want to wrap myself up in you. It makes me want to go days with seeing just you, hearing just you, until the world around me has just become another part of you.

And, when you smile, Ed, I always remember why I'm so lucky. When you smile, I want to have my last breath taken from me while I'm watching you in front of a sun-filled window, watching the light catch the stray hairs or the way the sun lights up your smile and then I'd just breathe in and just stop and you would be the last thing I'd see. You'd be there in that memory forever, an orange-tinged shadow of a love so thick, I might very well drown in it.

I have to go now, but how I wish that I didn't. I wish I could just write down every last thing you make me feel, every last thought I have with you in it, all the dreams you have a star role in and just put them in a box and watch your face light up when you read them.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Right now, you're wondering why I love you so much or maybe you're thinking of how _I _make _you_ feel. If you want the truth, though, "loving" you, doesn't even begin to cover it for me.

With all the love this page would allow,

Lucy

**And, a little thanks here to my loyal readers who reminded me of this stories existence.**

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